Pittstown Point, Crooked Island, Bahamas

0 nm
Wind: S 15 knots, building to 20 in afternoon thunderstorms

I did it. Today, I did it. The think-positive program works!! Today, among my accomplishments: sweeping, mopping, and scrubbing the cabin sole. Cleaning the nav station and the table. Filling the water tank by myself (first time ever). Securing the staysail on the foredeck. Coiling the anchor rode. Bleaching and scrubbing the entire head, toilet included. Pumping out the holding tank, and filling it with vast quantities of head treatment, bleach, and water. Doing two weeks worth of dishes. Scrubbing the exterior cockpit. Running the engine for two hours to thoroughly charge the batteries. Sorting through the storage in the quarter-berth. Running the bilge pump.

What an overwhelming feeling of relief. I can’t believe I didn’t do this earlier. This is whence my depression stems--my own feelings of failure and inadequacy--and all I needed to do, all along, was confront them head on. The crazy thing? Why I didn’t do this two weeks ago. I could have forestalled all the boat-house agony, and been comfortable all this time, held in the rocking plam of Jesus. And it only took three hours! Three hours of focused labor! Maybe Lin Pardey was right all along.

In the meantime, Karl and I have been having all sorts of serious discussions about our future. We’ve decided we need to replace the head, once and for all, and we want to get that and other boat gear shipped here. Shipping costs are near prohibitive, but even they may be worth it if we can have Nappy here as a resource and we can do any installation we need to at the calm and remote anchorage of French Wells. We’re also trying to make a firm decision about what to do with the boat. We’ve managed to get the number of the person responsible for the moorings in Georgetown, but after thinking about it and talking to Nappy, it seems just as safe to leave the boat on three anchors at French Wells. We can pay someone with a boat to check it out every once in a while, and we might even be able to drag a mooring over there. Why should we risk sailing, only to end up at our least favorite city in the Bahamas? Why not stay here where we have friends looking out for us?

It is the risky choice, in some ways. The safe choice would be to find dry storage somewhere. But the expense of that is breathtaking. Maybe not to some people, but to us $350 a month would break the bank. Especially if we end up staying with our families in the States through Christmas. Is it safe to leave the boat on her own for three months? I don’t know, but maybe it’s a safer choice for our emotional and financial health. If she ends up aground, we’ll rescue her when we get back. If she’s not rescuable, we’ll take it as a sign that we should go hiking again or something. If we can’t figure out a way to leave the boat for extended periods of time, then she really is too heavy for us, too much of a weight to lug around. We have to be able to visit our families, we have to be able to adventure ashore. How do other cruisers do that? The only possible way is to leave the boat moored and have someone take care of her.